The bus made a sharp turn and that’s when I woke up and threw a glance through the window. The greenery of the surrounding paddy fields served as a refreshing eye candy. For once, I was lucky not to see my idiotic servant maid’s face or my paper guy’s heroics as a first thing in the morning. The thought that I would be meeting my grandparents in my native, beautiful, scenic village got me rejuvenated. My watch struck 6am and it gave a wonderful view of the sunrise beyond the green fields. This mini (dirty) bus was fully occupied and only a few were awake by now. I had my I-pod plugged on with some instrumental music playing lightly. I turned it off to be able to listen to the birds. But I heard a loud roar. The person seated beside me let out continuous snores. I put my headphones back on. Then I felt someone playing with my hair from behind. “These village buggers…..” I said to myself and decided not to look behind. But then the fondling became scratching, so I turned back angrily within a nanosecond. My heart-beat stopped for a second when I saw a stupid dog facing me from just a few centimeters away. Even my girlfriend hadn’t gotten that close to me. Before I could create a scene, the dog’s owner came to senses and drew it away from me. People, goats, dogs, dead fishes.. all in the same bus… damn. Meanwhile the guy sitting next to me, apart from roaring, began using my shoulder as his pillow. I knocked on his bald head as if to say- ‘Can I come in’. He woke up, looked at me like I was a loser and went back to sleep. In a village, people fear you only when you have a thick mustache and/or a sharp voice. I had neither. Not a thick mustache, I dint even have a mustache, but that’s a totally different matter. Ok, so I went back to business – admiring the nature through the windows of a dirty bus.

After an hour, the bus conductor who I guess had had a bad dream, came to me and said- “Next stop is your village. The bus will not stop for long. So get ready with your luggage.” I replied politely- “ I have 2 bags. It’ll take ten minutes for each bag. You’ll have to stop for 20 mins.” This did no good to his mood. He said dismissively- “ It takes 2 seconds for me to throw you and your bag out of here.” For these guys, having a sense of humour is like a married man having an affair. I mean, these bus conductors are forever vapid people. Anyway, my stop came, luckily I wasn’t thrown out in 2 seconds, so I alighted safely. My grandfather was there to receive me, we hugged and walked along the fields to our home. There, my grandmother, as and when she spotted me, observed me top to bottom. I wore a six-pocket cargo trouser and a T-shirt with a few skulls and devils on them. Anyway, she too hugged me but said pointing to my dress- “ What is this? Our dogs will start barking. First go change.” As per her orders, I got busy with my morning duties and then wore a kurta-pyjama, as we had to attend a wedding of a distant relative. Meanwhile, my grandfather who was resting on his recliner, observed me and said- “ You don’t even bear a mustache. Our people (villagers) will doubt if you are actually a guy.” I was in my silent best, so I replied- “ Don’t tell them that you are my grandfather.” After a minute he laughed and coughed.

Me, grandpa and grandma reached the wedding hall. As the bridegroom walked in shyly, my grandma came close to my ears and enquired- “ I heard you are in love with someone?? ”

“Yes ma.” I smiled.

The bride wore a nice red silk saree, which my grandma observed and was reminded to ask- “ Does your girl wear sarees or short skirts?”

“Sarees only ma.” I smiled again but this time reminding myself of my girl. She had once said – “ My great-grandmother was the last person in my family to wear a saree” chewing a gum.

My ‘question-bank’ grandma asked me another doubt- “ Does she cook? Can she prepare our kind of dishes?”

“Yes ma.” I said as I was now on a smiling spree. I had once asked my girl at her place as to where the kitchen was and she had taken five minutes to reply.

Anyway, the couple tied the knot, we wished them, then sat for lunch, where I got a few lessons on ‘eating habits’ from my grandparents and then we left home. At home, as my grandfather was about to find his seat on his recliner, he whispered to me- “ Shall I get you an artificial mustache?” I stared back like a jackass- “What?” He repeated promptly and I again rolled my eyes and said- “What? What?” He finally said- “ Forget it.” My grandma, who now after seeing me with ‘shorts’ felt like she was a grandmother of a rag-picker and hence ordered my grandfather “ First, take him to the market and buy him nice clothes.” I turned to him, winked and asked- “Which one’s costly? Mustache or clothes?” He gave it a thought and replied intelligently- “ clothes.”I smiled and said- “Then, buy me clothes.” We both got a laugh out of it and as usually my grandma felt helpless.

Anyway, another enjoyable week had passed by, when it was time for me to leave. I hugged them good-bye and was made to fall on their feet to take blessings and then left in that only, same, dirty bus accompanied by goats and dogs. I reached Bangalore where my girl was waiting for me at the bus stand. I spotted her, waved and observed her. She wore a tight jean and a T- shirt which struggled to cover her hips, I smiled at myself- “Tough times ahead…..!!! ”

Hey..this is One another great post of urs.. Filled with humour..n gr8 style of writing.. You write amazingly well:-) just cant stop smiling.. Can imagine how you must have felt when you saw that dog behind so close.. Lol..

Oh wow!! Brilliant imagination. I only spent a few years with my grandpa...never saw my grandma...so I loved reading the whole relationship here. And that one last line "Tough times ahead…..!!! ” had me smile..

Don't ask ur girl to read ur blog. She is probably gonna get worried and tense when she gets to know what type of her future in-laws might be.As usual, u kept me smiling all through the time I read it.Keep Writing...